think he would like it. 
  I must remember to add, that as soon as the wedding is over
  We shall be off, I believe, in a hurry, and travel to Milan,
  There to meet friends of Papa’s, I am told, at the Croce di Malta;
  Then I cannot say whither, but not at present to England.

  XIII.—­CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

  Yes, on Montorio’s height for a last farewell of the city,—­
  So it appears; though then I was quite uncertain about it. 
  So, however, it was.  And now to explain the proceeding. 
    I was to go, as I told you, I think, with the people to Florence. 
  Only the day before, the foolish family Vernon
  Made some uneasy remarks, as we walked to our lodging together,
  As to intentions, forsooth, and so forth.  I was astounded,
  Horrified quite; and obtaining just then, as it chanced, an offer
  (No common favor) of seeing the great Ludovisi collection,
  Why, I made this a pretence, and wrote that they must excuse me. 
  How could I go?  Great Heaven! to conduct a permitted flirtation
  Under those vulgar eyes, the observed of such observers! 
  Well, but I now, by a series of fine diplomatic inquiries,
  Find from a sort of relation, a good and sensible woman,
  Who is remaining at Rome with a brother too ill for removal,
  That it was wholly unsanctioned, unknown,—­not, I think, by Georgina: 
  She, however, ere this,—­and that is the best of the story,—­
  She and the Vernon, thank Heaven, are wedded and gone—­honey-mooning. 
  So—­on Montorio’s height for a last farewell of the city. 
  Tibur I have not seen, nor the lakes that of old I had dreamt of;
  Tibur I shall not see, nor Anio’s waters, nor deep en-
  Folded in Sabine recesses the valley and villa of Horace;
  Tibur I shall not see;—­but something better I shall see. 
    Twice I have tried before, and failed in getting the horses;
  Twice I have tried and failed:  this time it shall not be a failure.

* * * * *

Therefore farewell, ye hills, and ye, ye envineyarded ruins! 
Therefore farewell, ye walls, palaces, pillars, and domes! 
Therefore farewell, far seen, ye peaks of the mythic Albano,
Seen from Montorio’s height, Tibur and Aesula’s hills! 
Ah, could we once, ere we go, could we stand, while, to ocean
descending,
Sinks o’er the yellow dark plain slowly the yellow broad sun,
Stand, from the forest emerging at sunset, at once in the champaign,
Open, but studded with trees, chestnuts umbrageous and old,
E’en in those fair open fields that incurve to thy beautiful hollow,
Nemi, imbedded in wood, Nemi, inurned in the hill!—­
Therefore farewell, ye plains, and ye hills, and the City Eternal! 
Therefore farewell!  We depart, but to behold you again!

[To be continued.]

THE CATACOMBS OF ROME.